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Program Information
A DIY Antiwar Recording
Music
Kontra
 kontra  Contact Contributor
Aug. 18, 2005, 8:24 p.m.
A true do-it-yourself song about the war.
Recorded and produced by Kontra. All vocals and instruments except drums by Kontra.

Drums by Forrest Young - http://www.4estyoung.com
This song was recorded with one microphone and one guitar in my tiny bedroom. The drum track was added later.
It was difficult to record, as I kept crying through the first couple of verses. The song was originally supposed to be relatively calm, but by the time I started recording the bridge, I had built up so much emotional energy that it had to come out. The result was some slightly organized chaos and a sore throat.

Lyrics:
--------
And the ramparts we watched were so far away
But the battle was so near
And the blood of our foes was screaming out
But the captains couldn't hear

We have stormed the shores of every year
But there's nothing we can say
And the blood of our fathers is still screaming out
But our brothers cannot hear

The devils lie still on a desert floor
While the dust in our carpets remains out of sight
And our sweating and bleeding and crying and dying is done
By the kid down the street who god told to fight

God told us we're right
God says that we're right

(Narration/Screaming)
And this war seemed so far away, we thought it might not exist. But it's so near. The battles are being fought every day - right here, right now. The blood of our friends and our foes calls out for its end. It has not fallen on deaf ears. We have no excuses. We have no pardon. Don't give up. Don't stop fighting. Do whatever it takes. Do what must be done.
We wage this war on war in the name of everything we believe is just and true. In the name of our brothers and our sisters. In the name of our children. We will not rest. We will not be silent until this cloud has lifted and we see the dawn with new eyes - free of fear and hate, and the spectre of our darkest hours.
WE WILL NOT BE SILENT.

The night that is dawning on a dirty town
And tosses the sand through fear ridden lungs
The same dark curtain that sweeps over all our homes
When the songs of the dead are no longer sung

The songs of the dead are no longer sung

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